HOW I CAUGHT MY FIKST SALMON. 187 



sleep on. Whilst engaged in this duty, I had full 

 opportunity to observe the wonderful ingenuity with 

 which the Indians, after felling a few trees, and run- 

 ning up a shed similar to those in use in this country 

 for stowing away farm-waggons, " skinned " one or 

 two large trees, removing the whole of their bark 

 without a fracture, and spreading it, a dew-defying 

 roof, over our heads. A large fire had been kindled 

 in the meantime at the foot of the shed, and I pro- 

 ceeded to proffer my assistance to the cook, whose 

 whole soul was intent on certain experiments con- 

 nected with our frying-pan, the upshot of which was 

 to add a new and gratifying aroma to the varied 

 odours of the forest. 



There is nothing like a day's work in the open 

 air to facilitate the demolition of pork chops; and 

 the number of times I asked S. for more would have 

 taken Mr Bumble's breath away. Tobacco followed 

 as a matter of course, and was supplemented by the 

 least taste in life to keep all quiet within. The pro- 

 priety of turning in for the night was then mooted, 

 and the toilet question discussed dress or undress. 

 By a majority of two deshabille was voted. But start 

 not, ladies ; the sole distinction in the backwoods be- 

 tween full and evening dress, consists in the presence 

 or absence of boots we Sybarites resolving to dis- 

 pense with them. Accordingly we wrapped our water- 

 proof blankets round us, pillowed our heads on our 

 knapsacks, thrust our feet into the burning logs, and 



